


A Life of One's Own

by Squishy_Sheep



Series: Of Their Own [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, Fluff, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 06:51:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4050376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squishy_Sheep/pseuds/Squishy_Sheep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back by popular demand, a sequel to "A Place to Call Home." Set a few months later, Renly is enlisted by Olenna Tyrell in a somewhat questionable plot to (re)seduce Loras and bring him back to Westeros after he runs away to attend college abroad. The only help he has is Margaery, and she isn't that much help at all. Meanwhile, Shireen takes up a new cause and Gendry joins the rowing team. Renly wonders if he should go into fashion design. Modern Day AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Life of One's Own

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a sequel to A Place to Call Home (link below). Thank you to everyone to read and commented on that fic and I hope you enjoy the sequel! 
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/3878860/chapters/8670418

It was a beautiful night. Stars twinkled brightly in the almost unnaturally black velvet sky far above the highway as Renly zoomed along the empty road in his ridiculous Alpha Romeo. He leaned happily back into his plush leather seats, enjoying the new car smell and the old song on the radio.

  
“The war is ending well,” commented a young man in the passenger seat.

  
“Yeah. Only a matter of days now.” Renly smiled at Loras, who was sitting next to him.

  
“Just so long as President Skateboard signs the peace treaty this time.”

  
“Yeah. He refused twice now, but I mean, how long can people really fight over the intellectual copyright of genetically modified turnip seeds?”

  
“I don't know. It's gone too far, even if those turnips do taste like heaven on a plate.”

  
“Mmm.” Renly closed his eyes and imagined it. He started to drool a little.

  
“Renly, wait!” Loras suddenly implored. “We can't cross the river without Champs!”

  
Renly opened his eyes. The car was stopped before the gates of an immense bridge. “Champs? Who's that?”

  
“Champs!” A little dog in Loras' arms barked. “How could you forget our miniature poodle-doo, Champs?”

  
“Umm, I didn't forget about him, I just, ahh. . .”

  
“You're a terrible person!” Loras slapped Renly, his face red with fury. “I'm leaving you!” Loras kicked open the car door and stomped away.

  
“But Loras,” Renly found himself calling after him, “What about the children?”

  
Loras ignored the question, pausing only to look at him indignantly for a moment and say dramatically, “This is for Champs,” before running towards the edge of the bridge.

  
Renly scrabbled to get out of the car and follow him, only to trip on his way out, experience a heart-stopping moment of vertigo, and suddenly jolted awake.

  
Renly rubbed his head and let his breath out slowly. Stupid annoying dreams. He sat up and turned on the lamp on his bedside table. Through the old-fashioned blue lampshade it cast a soft muted light onto the dark room. It was too early in the morning to get up, but at the same time, Renly didn't quite want to go right back to sleep, either. He'd been doing a good job lately of not thinking about Loras. After a few weeks of melancholy, spontaneous tears, and several failed attempts at reconnecting, Renly had moved on to ignoring the problem and hoping it resolved itself sooner rather than later. Preferably by finding him a new boyfriend. Except Renly's game wasn't quite as strong when he didn't have his own apartment, as it turned out, or when he was still being haunted by thoughts of his ex. Turning up in his dreams, of all places. How absurd. Loras had never expressed any interest in owning a dog, let own a poodle-doo named Champs. If that was even a real breed of dog. Which it probably wasn't.

  
Oh, and his Alpha Romeo didn't smell new anymore either, ever since one of the kids had puked all over the back seat.

  
Renly got up to close the window. Early September was a hot time of year, but the nights were beginning to get a bit chilly. He stood for a minute after sliding down the sash and leaned his forehead against the cool glass. Life sucked. Things had been great between him and Stan (even if Stannis wouldn't let him redecorate his room, claiming something along the lines of “heritage value”), but he missed his boyfriend more than he'd like to admit. It was like without Loras, life was beginning to slow down. He shuttled constantly between work and home, never having any reason to hang out in the city after hours anymore, since so many of his old friends had moved away or settled down. He'd even gone to a baby shower last weekend, and it had made him feel so old. That in turn made him feel like a bit of a failure, because he'd always mentally excused his complete lack of career success with the fact that he was still young. Even Loras was beginning to overtake him. All summer his facebook had been filled with excited updates about his college applications and obnoxious work selfies taken at his responsibility-void but vexingly high-ranking job at the family company.

  
Renly was musing sombrely about his prospects when suddenly his phone rang. He jumped a little, not expecting anything in the house to be stirring at that hour. He walked over to his dresser to pick it up. The number on caller display wasn't familiar. It was probably a spam call, but even those usually didn't arrive in the middle of the night. He answered it.

  
“Hello?”

  
“Yes? Hello,” an unexpected voice replied. “This is Renly Baratheon?” It sounded like an old lady. She spoke with a slight accent and an air of haughty expectation that made Renly pull his pyjamas about himself nervously.

  
“Yes.”

  
The old lady didn't skip a beat. “My name is Olenna Tyrell, of the Arbor Corporation that is. Perhaps you've heard of me. You know my grandson quite well, I hear.”

  
Renly stuttered. What the hell was this? Why on earth was Loras' grandmother calling him in the dead of night? He had no idea what it was about, but he had the horrible feeling that he wasn't going to come out of this conversation unscathed. She was obviously asserting dominance over him, clearly knowing that he knew perfectly well who she was and yet simultaneously managing to drop the name of the Arbor Corporation, just to remind him how important she was.

  
“Ah, yeah, yeah. Of course,” he muttered.

  
For the first time since she'd called him, there was a very small pause before she spoke next. “My boy, we should speak,” she said.

  
“Um, now?”

  
“Of course now!” the lady laughed sharply. “Really, you didn't think I called you at four o'clock in the morning just to tell you to call me back later, did you?”

  
“Heh, well, you did call for something. . . at four in the morning. . . so who knows,” Renly half-heartedly attempted to disguise his displeasure in a joke.

  
The old lady tutted. “You mustn't act so scandalized.”

  
Renly sighed and scratched his head, too disorientated to even remember what the conversation was about. “So, um, what do you want? I mean, how can I help you?”

  
“Well, it's about Loras, my grandson.” Of course it was. What else could it possibly be? Not business, obviously, since Renly had about as much to do with the family affairs as the cleaning lady.

  
“I haven't really talked to him in a while,” Renly admitted.

  
“Yes dear, I'm quite aware.”

  
Renly gulped. He really hoped she hadn't called to tell him off for what he'd said all those months ago.

  
“You see the thing is,” Olenna continued, suddenly switching her tone of voice from aggressive to cautious, “My grandson recently seems to have gotten himself into a bit of a pickle.”

  
This knocked Renly off-guard. “C-can I help?” he asked, suddenly alarmed.

  
“Yes,” Olenna purred happily. Renly mentally kicked himself. She'd obviously been hoping he would offer, and he'd fallen right into her trap on her first try. “You see the thing is, my grandson had elected, quite against our will, to do his studies abroad, and not at all in a suitable area, might I add. No sense of propriety, that boy.”

  
Renly rubbed his forehead. What on earth was this. “I thought he was studying business at UKL,” he offered lamely. He only knew this through facebook, and it obviously wasn't true anyway.

  
“Well, so did we! So did everybody!” Olenna sounded genuinely surprised. “But September comes around and it turns out he's been lying to us all the whole time.”

  
“But what can I do about that?” Renly asked. He didn't have anything to do with Loras anymore, he reminded himself. This was none of his business.

  
“Well, you're going to convince him to come back. Without letting on that I sent you, of course.”

  
Oh jee. This was starting to sound like a cooky plan. He almost wished that Loras' grandmother was a batty old woman spewing nonsense, but Renly had heard enough to know that Olenna's mind was quite sound, and that she was probably dead serious.

  
“I don't think Loras wants to hear from me,” Renly reddened as he spoke.

  
“Oh phoo, of course he does,” Olenna scoffed. “Trust me.”

  
“No, trust _me._ If I called him now he would only hang up.” That's what had happened last time, anyway.

  
“Oh, perhaps.” Olenna sounded quite dismissive. “But you won't be calling him. You'll be going in person to fetch him. He won't be able to resist once he lays eyes on you, I'm sure.”

  
Renly's heart couldn't help but flutter upon hearing this. Was it true? Did Loras really still want him, but had only been fending him off as some sort of misplaced sense of pride?

  
Renly bit his lip. It was horrible of him, but he was considering agreeing. After all, if the plan was to essentially seduce Loras. . . but it was dangerous. If Loras ever found out that it was part of some elaborate plan, he'd never forgive him. “You're sure you, ah, want me to, you know, get back with Loras?” If Olenna knew about this, that would mean she'd have the power to end their relationship whenever she wanted. She might even toss Renly to the wayside as soon as he'd managed to lure Loras back home, and if not, she'd be able to hang it over his head whenever she needed a favour.

  
“Oh yes,” Olenna answered him lightly, not seeming at all concerned by the question. “Best to keep relations within the upper class, after all.”

  
Renly squinted doubtfully. There was either a lot more to that comment that she was letting on, or it was an outright lie.

  
“You'll not refuse, after all,” Olenna barged on without giving Renly a proper chance to reply. “Since you did already offer.”

  
“Well I didn't know I was offering to go overseas,” Renly complained.

  
“I don't believe you have anything better to be doing.”

  
Renly scowled. She “didn't believe?” How did she know anything about his life?

  
“After all,” Olenna said soothingly, perhaps realizing that insults were not the best tactic in that particular situation, “What could be loftier than reuniting lost soul mates?”

  
Renly rolled his eyes. Soul mates cold cakes. He didn't believe it and neither did she, but the question still stood. Would he go?

  
“I've already booked a flight,” Olenna decided for him. “I'll have my people send your people the details. Oh, you don't have people, do you? Well, my people will send you the information then. I want him back within the week. And remember, not a hint that I'm involved with this.” Before Renly could protest, she hung up.

  
Renly blinked at his phone in disbelief. What a bully that woman was! He sighed and flopped back down on the bed. He was too tired to process this. Surely that had been the old witch's aim, seeing as she'd offered no other excuses for calling him so early in the morning. He crawled beneath the covers and pulled his pillow over his head. He knew in a muddled sort of way that this was bad, but he didn't have the energy to process exactly why. He couldn't do anything about it without first getting some sleep.

  
Before he could doze off, his phone buzzed. It was some official looking dude with flight information. The plane was departing at 10 AM that very morning. Renly groaned loudly and threw his phone on the ground, flinching slightly and immediately picking it up again to make sure the screen hadn't cracked.

  
At last he dropped off to sleep, even more disturbing dreams no doubt waiting for him.


End file.
